As I was preparing to leave work today, I came across the following lines in James Broughton's poem, Coming in for a Landing.
At birth I swore allegiance to the visionary life
because it required neither logic nor geometry
so I live with ample rhyme but very little reason.
Though unscientific and financially unsound
I'm fitter than most old fiddles you can play with.
I live in Ambivalence a mixed community
over the hills beyond the opposites
where all the streets run in both directions.
Loyal I am to the government of Imagination
and long live in the service of Eros and Psyche.
The poem concludes with the following lines:
Till the Captain brings me down and turns off my motor
I will cling to the banqueting wings of desire.
What a poem...what an expression of the quest for pleasure, eros, and experience. How moving to think of clinging to the banqueting wings of desire. Let's abandon geometry, science, and reason. Let's cling!
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